Chasing Eternity
by The-Moon-dipped-in-Caramel
Summary: Because every time he saw one of his explosions, Deidara knew he was gazing at eternity. Even if it lasted for only a second. vague Onesided SasoDei. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. This is my first fanfic, so lots of reviews would be great.

* * *

The first time he had seen Sasori's true body, it had been in grass country. They had been pursuing a group of rogue grass ninja that might have had contact with Sasori's assigned Jinchurriki. Unfortunately it turned out to be a dead end, but Deidara was still glad for the chance to demonstrate his art. So as the flutter of clay wings silenced the flurry of retreating footfalls, and Deidara turned at Sasori's gruff voice, he was surprised to find a ninja gripped almost protectively in Hiruko's tail. The grass ninja was alive, but unconscious, and judging by the needles protruding from his chest, he was badly poisoned. "I thought you said they didn't have any information, un?" "They don't." "Then why?" "Shut up and come." 

In the privacy of a nearby cave, Sasori carefully laid the ninja down. Stepping back, he sliced away his own cloak, as Hiruko's heavily armored back began to lift up. Even though Deidara knew that Sasori was not his puppet, but rather inside of it, he had always been curious as to what his partner looked like. Even though they had not been partners for very long, Deidara had never seen Sasori come out of Hiruko. He knew his partner used puppets to fight, and had sometimes referred to them as his art (even though Deidara couldn't see how they could be considered such). He couldn't understand how Sasori could remain in his puppet even when they were resting, so he decided his partner just liked to be prepared, or didn't trust him very much. (Deidara wasn't sure why that thought bothered him; he was after all, an S-rank-missing Nin).

When a small red-headed boy stepped out and walked over to the shaking ninja on the ground, taking a small syringe out and stopping his targets spasms, Deidara couldn't believe his eyes. There was a glint of metal reflecting off the moonlight pooling at the cavern's entrance. With the unmistakable sound of flesh splitting open, Deidara became intensely curious. Creeping closer to the lithe form of what must be his partner, he found him now leaning over the fallen ninja. Deidara could see Sasori's face much more clearly now, as he made another incision with a small curved knife held in his small yet amazingly dexterous fingers. His partner looked no more than 12 years old. Many questions wandered through Deidara's head in that moment, like how someone so young could have gotten into Akatsuki, or could be stronger than him. When the clouds above them parted to illuminate Sasori in a sliver of moonlight, only one question remained as blood from the unknown ninja pooled unceremoniously near the tip of Sasori's cloak. How could something with the face of an angel have the heart of a monster?

The look on Sasori's face was intense as he peeled back the skin he had separated only moments before. Deidara recognized that look; it was the face he wore when he carefully molded his clay into the perfect forms to express his artistic brilliance; was Sasori really an artist too? He found the thought exhilarating. Pausing in his work, Deidara watched as the figure before him pulled a scroll from his cloak. He watched as Sasori unrolls the scroll, noticing that there are dark stains that have crept close around the inscribed Kanji, and he looks back at the blood pooling in the moonlight and wonders how many times Sasori has done this. He senses Sasori's chakra briefly surge through the scroll, and sees his partner has stapled the flesh in place now. There are numerous medical instruments lying between them now, but Sasori seems to prefer his perfectly sculpted hands for this part. Deidara finds he can't move as Sasori plunges his hands deep inside the man and grabs handfuls of entrails which he flings away carelessly. As if they disgust him, Deidara thinks. It's then, as Sasori half turns to heave the rest of the unfortunate fellows insides away (Deidara knows he's still alive, somehow) that their eyes meet. It's the first time he's seen his partner's eyes, and Deidara isn't really surprised (even though he knows he should be), When he finds himself staring at something that isn't quite dead yet, and too far gone to ever reflect anything but emptiness in those dark orbs (Lifeless, he thinks). Then everything is so clear, he can see the screws and bolts and the empty spaces where the joints meet, and how Sasori is never cold or hungry or tired.

The moment passes, and even when Deidara can hear the screams of the now conscious man and smell whatever chemicals Sasori has splashed on his skin (so it won't rot). He can't look at Sasori, can't face exactly what his partner is. Then Sasori asks him if Deidara likes his art, and holds up his brand new puppet. Staring at that perfectly preserved face, Deidara feels like he was the one whose insides had been ripped out. Then the feeling is gone. Deidara knows nothing can last, not even memories. So he forgets.

"Sasori-danna…how can you call that art, h'm?"

Deidara's art was fleeting, impermanent, and destructive. Now, flying above the hidden sand village, Deidara watched as his swallows began and ended their flight against a backdrop of sand. He could see in the face of his opponent that he too, could not truly appreciate Deidara's art. When they first saw his art, many people only saw his clay sculptures, perfectly sculpted and moving with a life of their own. So he had taken initiative that spring to show everyone at the festival the true beauty of his art, surrounded by the sounds of explosions, and the brief flashes of light as wood and cloth and flesh were all torn asunder by his art, Deidara couldn't have been happier. Because his art was not clay animals that could crawl and fly and walk, it was the explosions they created, and the impermanence of their existence that allowed him to bring his art into existence. Now, as his specialty number 18 falls toward the village below him, Deidara cannot help but smile in anticipation of his art. He is almost disappointed when the Ichibi Jinchuriki protects his village, allowing Deidara to detonate the clay implanted in his opponent's sand, and accomplish his mission. Swooping to pick up the fallen Jinchurriki, with one backward glance at the still-intact hidden village behind him, he turns towards where his Sasori-danna is waiting. Only one thought crosses Deidara's mind. "I should have brought more clay, un."

He's standing over a puppet/human/puppet now, and he has to be quick, before the sand Hunter-nins come to take his Sasori-danna away. Now, staring into his partner's eyes that seem so much more alive then they ever have before, as if begging him to ignore the twin swords protruding from his chest, to ignore that fact that in the end, Sasori was unable to become as lifeless and eternal as the puppets he made. Deidara cant help but think that despite his partners supposed immortality, the many shields he has constructed around himself so meticulously, Sasori's defenses could still come crashing down with just as much force as one of Deidara's explosions. Bending over his Danna's body, Deidara whispers into his ear, "I'll show you eternity, Sasori-danna". Then the butterflies that moments before had only been lumps of clay in Deidara's remaining hand cease their fluttering above the artists, and one by one land on Sasori's body, their wings reflecting the colors of the sun as a single focused beam falls on his partner's body. He forms the seal and watches as his Danna's body is engulfed in a sea of reds and blues and greens and purples and all the colors of the rainbow, and Deidara knows it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. When the smoke clears and there's only ashes left, Deidara is crying and he can't be sure if it's from standing too close to the explosion, or if it it's because maybe just this once, he wishes eternity weren't so fleeting.

It is dark, and he is standing on the right index finger of the statue they always meet on. Shadows with distorted voices, and bodies that aren't all there, greet each other with a respectful silence. They've done this many times before, but now it's different. Deidara has a new partner, his name is Tobi, and all he has to do is glance towards the other hands thumb to see Tobi there wearing a ring that isn't his to remember why. His Sasori-danna is gone, and no one but himself seems to have noticed. Now, the leader is talking about the encroaching threats of leaf ninja and a small team of powerful former sound-nin led by Itachi's younger brother, Uchiha Sasuke. At the mention of the name, Deidara is reminded of his desire to kill Uchiha Itachi, and his deep hatred of the Sharingan.

The first time Deidara looked into the Sharingan, he, like many others, found himself bound in a powerful Genjutsu. Upon stating Deidara's defeat, Itachi had released the illusion, and Deidara saw art. It was like his explosions, he thought, in that it was fleeting, and in its moment of release was destroyed. Those eyes crafted an entire world around you, and could destroy it in an instant. For just one moment, Deidara wonders if those eyes that looked upon him with such disdain were really better than his art. Then Deidara remembers who he is, and the illusion vanishes. It isn't art, he states vehemently, and he will prove it. From that day, he strived to kill Itachi and developed his abilities to do so. He couldn't right now, as Akatsuki still has not finished their goal. That wouldn't stop him from testing his skills on his younger brother though, Deidara thought. And so after a brief argument with Tobi, he was off.

Deidara is falling. His arms hurt from the shuriken wounds he received earlier, but that's nothing compared to the pain he feels when he finds he cannot create a clay bird correctly. "Art is only as good as the artist, h'm." Even as Uchiha Sasuke bursts through his C4 bubble looking like a demon that crawled up from hell, Deidara knows that a rough landing is worth the chance to detonate the C4 imbedded in the youth's bloodstream. Forming the seal, he waits for the Uchiha to disappear unto nothingness. He continued his flight toward Deidara, Chidori blazing in hand, whispering words of murder and revenge in its countless chirps. It was a language that only two remembered, but spoke of broken paper fans and a place frozen in time. Deidara formed the seal again, and lost his adversary over the treetops as he crashed to the ground. Glancing around, he was rewarded with the sight of disintegrating snakes and inhuman flesh.

Now, as he is undoing the stitches that sealed his last mouth away with one hand, and hefting the last of his exploding clay in another, Deidara is almost euphoric with anticipation. Because every time he saw one of his explosions, Deidara knew he was gazing at eternity. Even if it lasted for only a second.

Briefly, he wondered if this was what Sasori-danna was trying to accomplish by turning himself into a puppet, for the artist to become the art. While you failed, Danna, I will succeed. In this explosion, I will become eternal. It was Ironic though, Deidara thought, that both he and Sasori-danna's greatest works of art were the ones that involved their deaths. His former partner sought to become like the same lifeless puppets he claimed were true art, while Deidara would become the explosion he so admired. As the last of his veins contracted into the space where his heart used to be, Deidara allowed himself to hope that even if everything in life was fleeting and impermanent, perhaps in death he would find something that could last forever. For once, he hoped that maybe his art was wrong, that the lifeless puppets his Sasori-danna had been so fond of were really eternal. So that in death, perhaps they could find eternity together.

"Marvel!" "Despair!" "Cry out like a lost child!" "For my art is a…."

"Bang."

* * *

Hmm...this fic is really more of an introspection I guess.  



End file.
